Chapter Five
Time moves very slowly without Kyle. That night is spent cleaning up – Graham managed to find a tiny slither of soap from somewhere and persuaded Brunton to spare a bucket of water to wash – and eating something of a feast from the supplies “negotiated” from the survivors in the other casino. There’re no canned peaches or Cheese Wiz, but we are given two sachets of tomato ketchup each, which I liberally spread on my stale crackers, licking every last bit of residue from my fingers. Everyone stays together around a fire Reid and Rodgers have constructed from a huge old can that once housed cooking oil, so there’s no opportunity to ask any more about the scouting missions – or continue my pleading with Kyle.
Given that it’s my first night in a bed, on a mattress, for so many weeks that I can’t remember, I sleep exceptionally soundly. I had hoped to see Kyle before he left, to say goodbye and have one last go at convincing him it’s a good idea to take me with him, but by the time my eyes open the sun is burning through the dirt-coated glass of the window and the four soldiers are long gone.
Then there’s nothing to do but wait. Keep out of trouble. And try not to go insane.
This sounds simple, but it’s easier said than done. Staying in the room is not an option. Bar the four walls and two beds, it has nothing but empty air. This might have been enough for me, but there is a whole casino, hell, a whole town, that Millie’s desperate to explore, and after fifteen minutes of listening to her whine and plead and moan and complain and sigh and every other single thing she can think of to get on my nerves (which is quite a lot), I give in.
“Fine, but we’re staying in the casino, Millie. I mean it.”
She smiles at my stern expression, then all I see is the fuzz-covered bumps on the back of her skull as she high-tails it out of there.
“Millie!” My voice is coated more with exasperation than amusement because when Kendrick brought us breakfast this morning he gave me very explicit instructions to stay quiet and indoors, and not to let Millie out of my sight. As he did so he swung a key round his fingers by its chain. The key, unless I’m very much mistaken, to this particular room. The threat was obvious: mess up and you’ll find yourself confined. With my allies Graham and Kyle on the scouting mission, I know that would stand the four whole days they are gone.
I dart after her, but she’s already disappeared from the balcony. Cursing under my breath, I lean over the rail. There’s no sign of her slight figure racing down the main staircase or across the foyer. I don’t think she’s fast enough to be out of my sight quite yet, so that must mean she’s headed towards the back, to the warren of corridors and tight staircases. Terrific.
Lopez catches my eye from where he’s loitering at the front doors, seemingly casual but probably on guard duty, and I wave breezily before turning away. I could yell down to him, ask if he’s seen Millie, but I don’t want to admit I’ve lost her. Kendrick’s smug smile as he fingered that key flashes through my brain again. He’d really enjoy the opportunity to lock me in, though I can’t for the life of me work out what I’ve ever done to get so firmly on his bad side.
“Millie, I’m going to kill you,” I mumble as I thrust my way through the door leading to most of the rooms.
We’ve stayed in desolate hotels a few times over the past couple of years, and Millie and my favourite game has always been to explore the hastily abandoned hotel rooms, rifling through the “treasures” that have been left behind. It’s a bit morbid if you think about it – these are the belongings of dead people after all, and more than a few times we’ve come across the accompanying remains – but when there’s little else in terms of entertainment it’s amazing what you’ll do. I figure this must be what Millie’s up to, so I trying doors at random as I make my way down the corridor. They’re all locked. When I come to the staircase by the elevator that I made my way down the night before, I push open the fire door and listen carefully, but I can’t hear the light patter of Millie’s feet, or the sounds of her giggle as she tries to evade me. She’s always been hopeless at hide and seek. Whenever I get close, I hear a soft tee-hee-hee from behind the curtain or under the table. In the interests of prolonging the game I usually ignore it, but this time all I can hear is silence. Frowning, and now a little concerned, I continue on.
